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17 September 2012

always gold

pale collarbones covered with mellow streetlights

more than four hundred kilometers every week, to the seaside and back again. cravings. the roads become darker and i fall into a deep slumber, illuminated with images of home and distant memories. thunderstorms. it feels like i have lost my mind, looking for something to light the fire inside. telling myself that one year and six months is a short time, that i should never be afraid

collar bones, night time, scars and bruises. the skin remembers.

a stranger told me today that i was beautiful. platinum eyes, staring at the buttons of their woollen coat. they asked if i was cold. an ocean of words pours from my lips and the salted foam covers their hair, swallowing the unanswered questions and unnamed words and everything

2 comments:

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